


Little Bird

by foxfireflamequeen, kidslipstream



Series: Sailboat in the Moonlight [1]
Category: DCU, DCU (Animated), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfireflamequeen/pseuds/foxfireflamequeen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kidslipstream/pseuds/kidslipstream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wally visits Dick on the anniversary of his parent’s death and takes him on a picnic by the lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of angst given the day, but this is mostly cavity inducing fluff, fluff, fluff, some water-soaked hijinks and more fluff.

The blue sparkles of the zeta beams scattered around Wally, and he blinked into the darkness of the Batcave. It was empty; his footsteps echoed between the drip of water falling over the distant underground pools that housed the Batsubs.

"Dick?"

He hitched the wooly plaid picnic blanket he’d brought over his shoulders—it was quite a change from the toasty April weather in California. His backpack was heavy on his shoulders on the trek up to the house; he’d rushed straight from class to the zeta with a buttload of books and stuff for the picnic.

"Dick?" he called again as the grandfather clock slid away to reveal the Wayne’s sitting room. Silent.

The silence didn’t surprise Wally; Wayne Manor, practically designed for privacy, was usually muted. But the silence sat heavier today. It made it difficult to breathe; made his chest run cold.

Dick’s parents had died today, eight years ago.

Wally sighed and discreetly ditched his overloaded bag with the red Stanford “S” on it behind a bookcase. It dropped to the floor, a trail of Silly String pouring off one of the straps. Wally groaned and pulled the sticky practical joke off his bag. His TA had sprayed the class in OChem today because it was April Fool’s.

It was April Fool’s, and Dick’s parents had died eight years ago today.

Wally brushed off a wave of nausea.

He’d cut his evening class to be here; he’d cut his afternoon class to be here. He’d have cut his entire day if Dick wasn’t going to be in school until three anyway—and so he’d slipped into the Zeta beam at 1:30pm Palo Alto time and stepped three hours into the future—three extra hours Dick has already lived through today—to hang out, like he had every year since he was fourteen. He shifted the weight of a pack of Artizone’s Peach Teas and the same warm wooly red plaid picnic blanket they sprawled on top of every April Fool’s afternoon by Pine Lake reservoir and under if they made it up to Gotham U’s observatory.

"Dick?"

The thick rug muffled the sound of his shoes as Wally padded toward the kitchen. A soft yellow light spilled from the round window in the restaurant style door, and finally he could hear soft murmurings and clinking of dishes and smell— _damn is that strawberry pie?_

Wally swung the silver door into the kitchen with an irrepressible grin to find Alfred standing over a tray of strawberry tarts, and Dick in an apron rolling out some pie dough, with admittedly the cutest damn blot of flour on his cheek. Wally would never have noticed a year ago, but now …

Tim emerged from the giant walk-in refrigerator to Wally’s left, carrying a basket of strawberries and a stick of butter.

 _Oh, hey, Tim was new._ Wally should have expected it.

_But otherwise? Same as always._

"Hey guys." Wally grinned and set down the tea and blanket and wandered over to his boyfriend and pecked him on the cheek. He didn’t ask how it was going.

"Missed ya," he murmured.

Dick turned toward Wally, a light look of surprise dusting his features: he didn’t know why he hadn’t expected Wally this year—

“You have classes later.”

—or Wally _did_ , but his best friend was right on time, and Dick did his best to smile at the kiss, because Wally actually _enjoyed_ college, so while ditching a class or two wasn’t such a big deal for most people, it was a pretty big gesture for him.

It wasn’t that hard to stretch his lips the same way he always did— _muscle memory_ —but he could _feel_ the dullness in his eyes, and wow Batman would be disappointed in his acting skills.

“We have a lot more this year,” he told Wally, moving to grab the empty Tupperware stacked next to the sink. “Timmy’s observation skills really helped out. He picked all the best ones.”

Also, three people = more strawberries than Dick really knew what to do with.

“You should take some of these home with you.” Tim’s eyebrow shot up as Dick nonchalantly started packing baked goods into the plastic boxes. “What? They’re delicious. Tell your mom that Alfred made too much for a bake sale or something. She’ll be fine with it. Your cook won’t have to make dessert for a week. I bet she’d like that.”

The Drakes knew that Tim spent most of his time with them now anyway. Richard had been charming enough to override Janet’s dislike of Brucie, and Jack was always looking to make new connections, especially if they were the richest people in Gotham. If having his son around made Richard happy, then maybe Bruce Wayne would be more inclined to look towards the Drakes for longer than five minutes at a gala, and WayneTech would consider working with Drake Industries.

So far, it was working, though that was more Bruce trying to ensure that Tim’s parents continued to let him come over as often as he was needed, even though they rarely noticed when Tim wasn’t around.

Sometimes, Dick hated Tim’s parents. Their son wasn’t a _tool_ for them to _use_. They weren’t supposed to be so distracted that it was _easy_ for Tim to steal away every night to become Robin.

Then again, they were alive.

Dick reached around to undo his apron, laying it neatly on the counter.

What would his dad have looked like in an apron? Did he wear an apron? He must have, at least sometimes, right? His mom had definitely owned one. Dick remembered that his dad used to cook, but he couldn’t remember how he looked in an apron.

Peach tea. Wally had bought him peach tea.

The other day he’d forgotten why peach tea was important. What his father’s favorite fruit had been.

Dick was forgetting his dad faster than his mom. At least Mary Grayson’s features were reflected in Dick’s pert little nose and his oversized eyes. He didn’t look very much like his father, though. John got hazier and hazier every passing year.

The one picture Dick had of his parents, they were wearing their performance costumes.

Did his dad ever wear jeans? What did his mom wear around the house, underneath the hand-embroidered apron Dick remembered so well?

Wally glanced subtly over to Alfred, who gave a slight nod and bittersweet smile that told him their usual picnic of light sandwiches and all the desserts that he could fit into their picnic backpack was packed and ready to go,and Wally nodded back gratefully. The backpack wasn’t all that big: it only fit two servings instead of the usual three or so, but Wally wouldn’t go hungry. Dick rarely ate anything, and Wally took care of the rest.

Thanks to Tim, that would be a little more than usual.

It wasn’t until the tupperware clicked shut that Robin realized that he’d lost track of what he was doing. While he was packing the tarts into his one box, Alfred and Tim had packed up the other boxes, and Tim had shut the one he was holding for him and waved goodbye as he stepped out the door from the kitchen to the back patio on his way home.

When Wally turned back from his goodbyes, Dick was still holding one of the teas, seemingly still lost in thought. It was always hard to see Dick like this, his usually bright eyes looking dim. Wally couldn’t tell if it was the light or what, but the blue looked almost gray today.

Dick snapped out of it, though: “We heading out?”

"Yeah, dude, let’s go," Wally said, trying to keep his tone light. Dick also had a little flour just to the left of his lips, and Wally stopped himself halfway to kissing it away. The hand that had automatically reached around Dick’s back to draw him close awkwardly redirected to wipe it away with his thumb, and, a little blush spreading across his cheeks, Wally glanced covertly at Alfred to see if he’d been spotted. Of course he had, but Alfred pretended he hadn’t noticed Wally’s near PDA.

Dick blinked as Wally pulled away, making a face as a thumb pulled across his mouth. One day, he’d be able to bake without getting the ingredients _on_ him.

It wasn’t the first time that Wally had stayed with Dick throughout this day, not by a long shot, but it was the first time he’d done it as Dick’s boyfriend, and he wasn’t totally confident where the line lay in terms of how much affection Dick wanted in general … much less in front of Alfred.

"Ahem," Wally cleared his throat and now his hand was behind his neck, rubbing it sheepishly as he jogged over to the table with the backpack. The tea slipped in neatly at the bottom, and he wrapped the picnic blanket in some loose straps and hefted it onto his back. There was a lot more this year than he could carry gracefully, but he scooped up the rest of what he could and, turning to his favorite brunette, he offered him his free hand and a grin.

"That is, uhm, I’m totally ready if you are."

Rolling his eyes, Robin reached for the tupperware in Wally’s arm instead of his hand.

“Alfred, we can put these in another bag, right?”

The butler was already waiting with one. Dick managed to not give Wally a flat Alfred-Look as he carefully stacked the boxes on top of each other inside the polythene bags and picked it up.

Wally pulled a face as Dick and Alfred fixed his packing job, internally rolling his eyes because it was no big deal if he—

Then Dick laced his fingers with Wally’s, deliberate and slow, leaning close to offer him a brief, close-mouthed kiss.

“Let’s go, Kid Idiot.”

A blush crawled up over Wally’s ears, and he gave a sideways glance without breaking contact at Alfred, who was politely looking away. It was a little embarrassing, but he couldn’t totally suppress the thrill it gave him that Dick did this in front of family.

Robin wouldn’t feel that odd sort of pride that came from flaunting his relationship in front of his family until he got to show off to Bruce (he always said that he didn’t care what Dick did with his private life even though Dick had known better from the way Bruce’s mouth tightened every time he had a girlfriend over), but the embarrassment did heat his cheeks because Alfred was still like—

Well. Sometimes it was grandfather and sometimes it was father, but either way it was _Alfred_ and Dick… liked telling him that he was in love. If not with words, at least through little things that couldn’t hurt.

He wanted to show one of the most important people in his life that he was _happy_.

“ _So… you know about Wally. My best friend. Of course you do, he’s pretty much all I talk about.”_

Dick smiled to himself, silently running through the speech. One he didn’t need to give Alfred because he’d known the first day he’d kissed Wally, and didn’t need to practice for Bruce because Batman wouldn’t need to hear anything from Robin save a confirmation.

“ _We’re sort of together now. As in, together-together. I mean. Dammit. Wait no forget that I cursed I don’t have money for the swear-jar right now. He’s my boyfriend, okay?”_

…Wow. This was awkward even in his head.

“ _I made the first move. And… he feels the same way, so. Yeah.”_

Hmm. Would there be arguments?

“ _I’m not experimenting! No, he’s not a rebound from Babs. He’s my best friend. He knows when to make me laugh and he knows when I just need to blow off steam and he knows when to hold me. He makes me happy. I want to make him as happy as he makes me, for the rest of my life, and I love him.”_

Was that too much? It sounded heartfelt enough. At least when he was thinking it. Maybe an additional…

“ _He loves me too.”_

 _What would come after that, though?_ Well, Dick didn’t have anyone to say this to anyway, so whatever he wanted, probably. But he wanted so many things.

He’d like his father to clap him on the back and laugh at him and his mother to envelop him in her arms and congratulate him but.

But that was just how he imagined parents were supposed to act when their son fell in love. It was an idea based off books and TV shows, and Dick didn’t know because he didn’t have parents, not anymore.

Bruce didn’t want to be his father, no matter how many times he called him ‘dad’ in his head. Robin had stopped seeing him as one as well, long ago, and now it was just Dick clinging to the possibility of a normal family where fathers weren’t more like brothers, and grandparents actually sat at the table with you even when it wasn’t a special day and they weren’t being forced to.

Maybe his parents wouldn’t like the idea of him dating another guy. It hurt to think of, when he’d spent years and years building them up to something almost perfect (though not quite; he still had faint memories of his dad waking him up with loud snores and his mom snorting with laughter), but Dick couldn’t recall any gay couples in the circus. Yes, the circus was more accepting of _differences_ , but they were _traditional_ too, and…

Robin frowned.

And maybe he couldn’t remember because he’d forgotten; not because they didn’t exist.

Tim’s eidetic memory allowed him to remember everything he’d ever seen.

It wasn’t _fair_ that Dick needed it more, yet he couldn’t have it.

Before they were halfway to the cave though, Wally was more leading Dick than walking with him; his friend was clearly lost in thought as he followed by instinct, with a grace that came from memorizing this path from every possible direction. Dick could make it to the cave with this eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back and, in fact, Batman had probably made all the Robins do just that many times over.

Wally was sure he could do it in his sleep.

Nevertheless, he urged Dick on, wondering just what the acrobat was thinking about. Normally he’d ask what was up, but today he just let Dick think - he’d share if he felt like it, and Wally would listen.

Once they reached the zeta beam, he brought Dick back from wherever he’d been with a squeeze of his hand and greeted him with a soft grin. Robin looked up to green eyes, practically luminous in the dim, fluorescent glow of the Cave, patient in a way that Wally rarely was.

 _I love you_ , Dick decided. _And I wouldn’t give you up even if my parents asked me to_.

Disentangling their hands, he stepped forward to press a lingering kiss to Wally’s lips.

 _Hi_ , his arms said as they wound around his boyfriend’s neck. _Thanks for showing up today_ , his fingers tangled into bright red hair. _It really means a lot_ , his tongue licked into a hot mouth.

His body pressed flush against Wally’s.

_I missed you too._

When Dick leaned in and pressed his lips to his, Wally opened himself up, melting right back into the arms around his neck and the fingers in his hair and the rapture of feeling so close to someone in a way he’d never had before in the light of the warming up zeta beam.

And before Dick could object, Wally scooped him up princess style, stuck the boxes of dessert on his lap, and sped through away from the darkness of the cave to the sunshine of the foothills of Gotham.*

* * *

Tucking his face into the crook of Wally’s neck to avoid the rushing wind, Dick felt his body automatically curl into the familiar hold despite the bubble of protest that he swallowed down. He wasn’t even _short_ anymore; why did everyone _insist_ on carrying him like this? Seriously, Robin would totally be okay with being tossed over Wally’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Then again, now it was so much easier to pretend he was just _breathing_ when he was drowning in the smell of sweat and wind and _freshness—so easy to turn everything into a joke_ —clinging to the warmth of another body to human contact that he’d been so deprived of ever since he’d stepped into Wayne manor. Only eleven when Wally had first picked him up, but Robin had known immediately that it was inappropriate to enjoy these things as much as he did. That he couldn’t ask for another person to give him all this and not expect them to want him to return the favor, one way or another.

Giving up his identity to his best friend had been more than a show of trust; Dick had just wanted to give back a little of what he took every day, each time Wally threw an arm over his shoulders or elbowed him in the gut.

He could never really explain how much it had meant to him. That just because Bruce and Alfred loved him and cared about him didn’t mean that he received any contact besides when he was training or needed his wounds cleaned and dressed. Wally never gave his gestures—however big or small—a second thought, so he probably didn’t even know that there was something Dick needed to repay.

Robin did, though. So one day he simply took off his mask, picked up the pieces of trust he had left and surrendered them to his best friend, and hoped it would be enough.

The five mile hike outside Gotham was really just a jog for Wally, and he took it even slower than necessary to make sure Dick could hold onto the tupperware easy - or _maaaybe_ just to have a moment to appreciate Dick’s breath and the brush of his bangs against his neck, the way his hair smelled of hipster cinnamon and honey shampoo, the way he pressed into him to avoid the wind and cold.

He skidded to a stop at the top of a small hill in the foothills outside Gotham overlooking Lake Tomahawk. They’d stumbled on this place wandering around outside Gotham three years ago today and set up an impromptu picnic underneath a gigantic old oak tree that had two wooden swings hanging from a branch. The swings flew out over the step edge of the hill into the lake … at the peak of the arc, the boys could jump and land in the water. It was fantastic.

Robin stepped away from Wally’s arms with practiced ease, perfected with Superman who had offered him the same friendly touches but was always so busy. Dick didn’t linger a moment too long for fear that Wally would catch his ridiculous need the way Clark had.

(Wally had eventually figured it out anyway.)

Wally had finished setting everything up before Dick could gather his bearings in a suddenly-still world, the woolly red blanket was spread over soft green spring grass in a blink, sandwiches and treats placed perhaps a little haphazardly on plates and in the tupperware across it. He was currently smiling at him like a four year-old having completed a finger painted picture, bright and innocently proud.

Dick couldn’t have not smiled back if his life depended on it.

Wally knelt at one end of the blanket, grinning up at Dick as he slowed down to real time and the brunette caught up, and wow, Dick’s returned grin on this particular day was one of the greatest little victories he’d had.

“Sit down?” he asked, patting the space beside him and picking up a plate with a sandwich to offer. The plate was mostly an empty gesture; Wally knew Dick wouldn’t be eating much today of all days, but he wanted to at least take a stab at maintaining normalcy. _You never knew._

Just another day, two dudes hanging out, eating turkey and cake and sitting on swings and relaxing across from pine covered mountains on the other side of the lake.

Stepping forward to take the plate from Wally, Dick gracefully collapsed on the blanket and tucking his legs into a simple fold.“We should come here more often,” he mused. 

* * *

_* Wally and Dick arrived at the cave at the exact same time in the zeta beam at the beginning of Happy Harbor, even though in Failsafe everyone had to go through one at a time, so it’s a little ambiguous as to whether more than one person can go through at the same time or not. (Maybe M’gann didn’t know you could? Maybe Dick hacked the beam? Maybe it was because the team was going from a very public place to the cave?) Regardless, let’s take HH as canon for whatever’s sake._


	2. Chapter 2

The sandwich looked as good as always, but Dick didn’t really feel like eating. He unwrapped the pieces without really thinking about it, biting in mostly to keep Wally from worrying. It was probably proof of how today got easier with every passing year that he could actually taste the sandwich today, and it was actually kind of good, compared to just a few years ago when the smell of turkey would turned his stomach.

“I can’t believe this place still falls into _Gotham_.”

Robin put down his sandwich and balanced the plate precariously on one knee, leaning back on his hands. It was so… _quiet_ over here. Ivy would probably like it. “I mean, I can _smell_ the freshness. Or… I can’t smell the sewers. Granted, I spend a lot of my time in the sewers hunting Croc, but still.”

Pushing himself up again, he started pulling apart his sandwich carefully, pinching off tiny pieces of bread and nibbling on them. His mom would probably tell him not to play with his food if she could see him now. Hell, _Alfred_ would scold him if he saw him now. Alfred had been really patient with Dick over the past few months, but there was only so much that he would let slip. Bad habits didn’t fall into that list.

 _We should come here on days when I can actually enjoy it properly_ , he didn’t mention, because they were both busy people. School or college and patrol… if they had missions added to that list they wouldn’t have any time alone for themselves, let alone for picnics like this. Once a year was enough. Dick appreciated the amount of thought Wally put into this.

You’d think that being a speedster would mean Kid Flash had more time to think a lot of things through, but nope. Wally did, then thought, but sometimes when he did think the results were kind of amazing.

“I keep expecting an attack; it’s almost _too_ peaceful.”

“Mffmph, mpmffh,” Wally shrugged, a little distracted by Alfred’s always fantastic sandwiches, freshly carved, seasoned turkey with mustard and lettuce housed between two soft chewy rolls. He just barely registered Dick’s musings between bites because, truth be told, he was starving, and damn if these strawberry tarts weren’t the best thing he’d had in ages. He was on his fourth sandwich before he could really pay attention to his— _wow, seriously unbelievably hot_ —boyfriend. Dick’s eyes were cast down as he picked apart his sandwich ( _didn’t fool Wally for a second, but whatever_ ), and his bangs flopped over his face, but the redhead could still make out half-moons of glittering blue beneath some of the thickest black eyelashes he’d ever seen.

It still took him by surprise.

Finishing his sandwich, Wally snorted through a bite of strawberry cake: “Dude, you seriously need to relax. The Penguin has better things to do than chillax in the boonies. Well,” Wally held up air-quotes, “‘better.’ Anyway, there’s no one around for miles.”

 _Hmm_.

“… probably,” he amended. “At least a mile. And a half.” _Sure_.

“Yeah, but Ivy doesn’t,” Dick countered.

Wally wasn’t really listening, though, frowning at his cake accusingly. He’d had a little something he’d been working on that he wanted to show Robs, but it should actually maybe wait until dark because it would be quite a problem if anyone spotted him. “Dude, remind me, okay, there’s something I want to show you as soon as it gets darker. In the meantime, though, remember those?” he asked, gesturing toward the wooden swings hanging next to the lake.

“Okay… but what is it?” Dick managed to get out before Wally was up and away, over to the swings.

Wally had grabbed his backpack and deposited it under one of them. He sat facing the lake and twisted around a few times, till his feet couldn’t touch the ground any more and spun back, laughing and dizzy. “Man, maybe we _**should**_ come here more often.”

It was a little like being thirteen again, before girls invaded their lives and everything was full of missions and sex and, well, more sex, really, ‘cause neither them nor their girlfriends were very well-chaperoned.

Right now, it was just them, and Dick loved being here.

Even if Wally was being a bit antsy. Hah. Speedsters.

(Then again, Dick had even more trouble sitting still than Wally.)

He glanced guiltily down at his unfinished sandwich and picked up a fresh slice of strawberry topping a tart that had survived Wally’s stomach, popping it into his mouth as he deposited his plate on the blanket and stood, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie as he sauntered up to Wally.

His best friend was still spinning slowly on the old wooden swing tied to a sturdy branch with plain rope by someone long ago, red hair already wild from their run, face flushed from laughter and green eyes glowing with it. This, when the setting sun was glowing orange through the canopy and reflecting off the water surface, this was when Wally shone the brightest.

How could he _possibly_ have missed it before?

“I like it,” he told Wally, biting his lip to keep from giggling. “It’s pretty.”

Hopefully Wally wouldn’t figure out what he was actually talking about, because Dick had just called him ‘pretty’ and that was probably violating the Bro Code in some manner or another.

Leaning forward, he brought Wally to a stop by spreading his fingers over his thighs.

“No one around for at least a mile, you said?” He pulled his boyfriend closer, feeling the weight increase in his hands as Wally lifted his feet slightly off the ground. “I guess that means I can do whatever I want to you without _an_ -nyone seeing.”

Goosebumps spread up Wally’s thighs where Dick planted his palms, and he stilled beneath Dick’s bright blue - and _very_ suggestive - gaze.

"Well, I guess … not," Wally drawled, as he flattened his feet on the ground to steady the swing, regarding the close, short, steep drop off over the lake just barely beyond his boyfriend thoughtfully.

Dating Dick was, to put it lightly, an enigma. The fact that Wally had, essentially, no real ideas about how to date a boy— _were they just friends that kissed? Should he be buying chocolates? Which one of them was supposed to forget anniversaries? Would anyone ever bother hanging curtains if they moved in someday?_ —aside, Dick came with a host of issues.

Namely, _was it kosher to make out with your flirty boyfriend on the anniversary of his parents death?_ Dick was pretty clearly okay with it, so …

… Wally gently pushed forward, letting the swing drift closer to him until their noses touched, until Dick’s weight was over him, and he could feel the soft brush of Dick’s breath against his lips and …

… More importantly, _was it kosher to be a total jerk tease to your boyfriend on the anniversary of his parent’s death?_

 _Guess I’m about to find out_ , he thought, as he pushed away as hard as he could, letting the swing fall out from under Dick as Wally flew back over the grass away from the lake.

Dick’s eyes were already closing when he felt Wally’s thighs tense under him, and he leaned forward in anticipation before suddenly—

_Shit._

He barely managed to prevent a faceplant onto the ground by throwing an arm out, only by the time he’d managed to right himself Wally was coming straight back at him.

 _Why you little_ —

What was he planning on doing? Knocking my head off?

Like hell he was going to stand still for _that_.

Moving targets were definitely a Grayson’s thing.

It was too easy to picture the wooden swing as a wide trapeze.

Dick had—as expected—caught himself before falling, but he hadn’t moved out of the way like Wally thought he would before he came barreling back.

Wally opened his mouth to shout a warning - flailing because he hadn’t actually wanted to knock Dick **_into_ ** the lake - but before he could get a word out Dick had already launched himself at the swing. Dick leapt towards Wally just as he passed the lowest point on his way back up, managing to grab the ropes on either side and flipping over the redhead’s head, landing somewhat neatly on the little bit of leftover space on each side and trying not to get thrown off when the swing jerked and fell back at the sudden increase in weight.

 _That_ was a problem Dick didn’t often encounter on a trapeze.

By the time Dick had turned around so he was actually facing the same direction as Wally, standing behind his best friend, they were swinging away from the lake.

“Push!” Dick shouted, bending his knees to give the swing an extra shove as Wally complied, pushing off hard against the ground. Robin couldn’t help but release a delighted whoop when they picked up the speed he’d lost them, wind in his hair and the setting sun in his eyes.

They passed the edge of the lake and came back; Robin bent his knees even lower.

“Again!”

The swing was very long, designed for kids in swimsuits to drop off at the peak of one arc straight down into the icy depths of the lake. Dick had Wally had done it themselves once or twice, before, and with each push off the grassy incline, they swung further and further out into that arc and—

And this time they were clear past the border of the lake and it was just clear, sparkling water under them, rippling in the breeze and from a fish or two swimming to the surface.

Dick pulled himself up on the ropes, planted both feet against Wally’s back, and _shoved_.

Wally … maybe hadn’t thought this through.

\- yeah, Wally _really_ hadn’t thought this through.

Wally’s little whoop of victory was cut into a short “ _oh shi-_ " with the pressure of Dick’s designer sneakers between his shoulder blades and the little sinking feeling in his stomach as his butt slipped off the well worn seat of the swing and he splashed, completely clothed, into the lake.

He popped back up a few seconds later, pushing his hair out of his eyes and sputtering at his friend cackling at him on the swing:

" _DUDE!_ "

Honestly, Dick had meant to jump off when he swung away again, but he was laughing too hard for that, so he just leaned forward on his next trip back up and blew the now-very-wet redhead a kiss. He waited until the swing reached its peak on the opposite end to backflip off, and toed off his shoes right there.

"Augh," Wally play splashed in Dick’s direction as the boy made obnoxious kissie faces at him on his next swing around, and started to half-strip off his jacket and head back to shore before getting distracted that Dick was full-on stripping at the edge of the lake.

Dick’s shirt was off by the time he’d trotted across to the edge of the lake, and he dropped it at his feet to wrestle with his buckle and simultaneously attempt to remove his socks at the same time. One came off easily, but the other got stuck. Robin muttered a curse at it and tossed aside his belt, pulling down his zipper smoothly and peeling off the skinny jeans that really were too tight exactly when he needed them _not_ to be.

Thankfully, the stubborn sock came off with the denim, and Dick could finally kick everything save his plain green boxers aside.

Then it was just a matter of racing forward the last few steps and handspringing into the air, curling his body tight—

“CANNONBAALLLLLLLLL!”

—and landing right next to Wally.

His best friend turned away from the incoming spray.

And Robin decided to forego rising up for air in favor of wrapping both arms around Wally’s thighs and dunking him in the water.

By the time Wally’s brain caught up with reality, Dick was shouting in his ear and dragging Wally underneath the surface of the lake _again_. He squeaked and battled his way to the top,a tangle of arms and legs and laughter as he finally wiggled his way out of Dick’s grasp and up for air, gasping and laughing. He tread water awkwardly, one arm out of his jacket, splashing towards Dick with the sunset behind him, golds and reds reflected in the crown of the brunette’s hair.

This time when Dick dunked him again, Wally wrapped his jacket around him, trapping him between one sleeve, anchoring to Dick’s arm and the other around Dick’s torso, leaving one arm free still to tread. He cackled, and Dick splashed at him in a feeble attempt to get away, but hummed and fell still as Wally dragged the younger boy over, bangs plastered to his forehead, dripping over his cheeks and bare, broad, porcelain shoulders, and at times like this it was still clear that maybe his ears were a little too big for his head, and Wally wished he had a hand free to run a thumb over their edges before cupping his jaw and …

… but he didn’t, so he just grinned broadly and tugged on the sleeve wrapped around Dick and drew him in, gently kissing away the drops of water on Dick’s lips.

Dick’s feet kicked into Wally’s as his hands slid under the redhead’s billowing shirt, flattening against a toned stomach before pulling out to loop around his neck. He laughed and returned a few of the pecks, squinting against the orange sun half-blocked by Wally’s equally orange head.

Dick laid his forehead against his best friend’s. Wally automatically flexed his arm, tightening the jacket around him.

 _You have the prettiest eyes_ , Robin stopped himself from saying, because Wally would almost certainly pout… which was more of an incentive, actually—Wally’s lips were absolutely delicious when he pouted—but Dick didn’t want to break this—

Could he call this a ‘moment’?

It was so easy to get lost in the tiny gold flecks shining bright in green eyes, and Wally looked right back, eyes glazed over with a combination of familiar affection and _un_ familiar (but not _bad_ —no matter how unfamiliar it was, how could it ever be bad?) love.

Yes, this could definitely be called a _Moment_.

Dick pressed their lips together one last time, using Wally’s shoulders as leverage to push himself up past his waist in the water. Wally flailed as they both sank under, opening his mouth to gasp in a quick breath, but Robin used the opportunity to deepen the kiss for a long second instead, before dipping under and out of the jacket.

 _Tag_! he mouthed at the speedster. His giggle escaped in a short burst of bubbles when he shoved Wally further below and swam up himself, strengthening his strokes to get away as soon as he broke the surface.

Wally grinned, maybe a little shark-like. His clothes were soaked, _so heavy_ , and he really wanted to get out of the lake, but if Dick wanted to play tag with a speedster, then _he would play tag with a speedster_.

He quickly worked his way back into his jacket before taking off after him. He’d definitely be feeling this later, but he put all his speed behind him and rounded the acrobat who looked almost frozen, with a giant grin and hair flying as he freestyled toward the middle of the lake.

Wally stilled and waited for Dick to catch up to the fact his best friend was suddenly right in front of him, and when Dick raised an eyebrow in surprise, Wally leaned in, gave him a big smooch, and tugged Dick’s green boxers to his knees.

Well, it’s not like Dick actually expected to _win_ against _Kid Flash_.

But he _had_ expected to keep his pants on, and Dick squeaked in surprise and swallowed an indignant mouthful of water as his junk suddenly slipped free and he scrambled to make sure he didn’t end up losing his underwear.

“ _Tag_ ," Wally chuckled as he turned up the speed again to drag himself, exhausted and drenched and laughing, onto the shore.

“Wally, you asshhh—!” Dick sputtered and coughed, the last word distorted by him sinking down as he pulled up his boxers.

If he’d managed to suck in a good breath before this, Robin would have certainly stayed down and pretended to drown, but as it was he was already drowning, so he just huffed and turned back to the shore. Wally was already there, obviously, panting and laughing at him.

He was so _not_ getting away with this.

Dick crawled onto the shore, hair plastered to his face and over his eyes, dripping wet, the fabric of his boxers sticking to him uncomfortably. He’d have to go commando now. It wasn’t exactly unusual for him, but Dick made a face at the thought anyway.

“You suck,” he informed Wally, then tackled the unsuspecting, still-giggling speedster to the ground.

It took virtually no effort for Robin to roll them over and slam Wally face-down on the ground, wrapped around the redhead so he couldn’t possibly escape. “ _Oooophhh_." he collapsed under Dick’s tangly limbs.

“Tag~” Robin sing-songed, blowing cheekily into Wally’s ear. “ _I win_.”

Wally raised his hands, laughing, as Dick gloated in his ear. "I give, I give," he said, "uncle. You win."

Dick relaxed under Wally’s surrender, and he took the room to roll them over again, bracing himself over Dick. “Now,” he grinned, “thanks to you, I’m going to get out of these,” he motioned to his sopping, dripping clothes.

“But I feel so _exposed_ ," he drawled over dramatically. "So be a gentleman and hold up the blanket so my virtue isn’t _sullied_?”


	3. Chapter 3

Wally pushed up and off Dick, walking gingerly over to the blanket and began to pack up the food— _in-between bites, of course_ —and tossed a suggestive eyebrow back over at his boyfriend.

“What virtue?” Dick pushed himself up on his arms, moving over to help Wally. He didn’t exactly need the blanket as cover—nothing Robin hadn’t seen before—but he _would_ need something to replace the clothes once they were off. It wasn’t _cold_ , and Dick felt the wind more than the speedster, but Wally wet and naked and outdoors wasn’t the most comfortable situation.

Even though Wally was _adorable_ when he was trying to be sexy. Idiot didn’t realize that ‘hot’ was his natural state of being. The eyebrow just made Dick want to swoon a little and maybe squeeze him into the next world.

Not… that he’d ever do either. _Obviously_.

Once the mostly-empty containers were secured and returned to the backpack, Dick stood up and shook out the blanket.

“I suppose, however, that as your boyfriend—” Best word in the world. “—I should still protect this nonexistent _virtue_ from prying _eyes_.”

He spread out the blanket in front of him, making a point of turning his head away. For the moment.

“Go on then. You should get out of those before you start sniffling all over our d—”

Robin cut himself off, suddenly extremely interested in the sun setting over the trees at the far end of the lake.

Because suddenly, jokes about dates… weren’t _jokes_ anymore.

Clearing his throat and trying to will away his heating ears, Dick jerked the blanket as a way of distraction. “Our… little outing.” _Lame_.“I won’t peek.”

_Lie_.

Wally tilted his head in confusion as Dick stared into space for a second, but just snorted as Dick finished his sentence with an obvious lie.

Which was, of course, the _point_.

He turned his back to Dick, throwing a “you better not” coyly over his shoulder and wiggling out of his jacket and shirt with less finesse than he’d hoped. They were sticky and cold, and he did his best to be somewhat suave, because Dick was _right_ there, but he was also right there, and Wally was sticking close because the further he backed away the easier it was for Dick to peek, but that gave him very little maneuvering room—he hooked his thumbs over the seam of his jeans and shimmied most of the way out of them, but when he tripped over his pants legs as they got caught in each other, it was probably a Fail. He groaned, hopping around a bit to pull off the clumsy !%#@$%ing things, but finally he was down to his red boxers.

It wasn’t that Dick wasn’t interested, he just wanted to honestly be a gentleman and… not look.

Only Wally made that very difficult, hopping a little too far away from the blanket and giving Dick a nice view of a pert little ass, clearly defined by the soaking red boxers the way… well, his own underwear probably left nothing to the imagination either.

Wally dug his thumbs into the hem and started shimmying out of them, too, unaware that Dick could easily see by now.

Which, no matter how nice a view it gave Robin, was a little unfair.

He whistled in appreciation and the tiniest hint of warning, and cackled as Wally hiked his boxers back up, spinning around in indignation and unwittingly giving Dick a wonderful frontal view as well. His shoulders were still shaking when he pulled the blanket higher, hiding Wally from his eyes entirely—or hiding himself, he wasn’t sure—and giggled out the most insincere apology he could manage.

“It’s not my fault you can’t stand still,” he pointed out, lowering the blanket enough to peek over it.

Totally inconspicuously, of course.

“ _Hey_ ," Wally barked, half-in-jest, covering his jiblets and wiggling back into his boxers. He sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. "Actually, I don’t know what to even do with these. It’s all gonna have to air dry. That’ll take _forever_ ," he groaned, casting one eye at the sinking sun. His stomach grumbled.

Dick frowned sympathetically at him from over the blanket, when Wally snapped his fingers.

"Pass me some tarts or whatever’s left?" he asked.

_It’s probably dark enough. I hope._

"Okay, remember I had something to show you?" he took a tart and stuffed it in his mouth. "I’been prachtisching" — _gulp—_ “chechk thish owut.”

Wally wandered around to the other side of the tree, and down on the bank. He faced away, rolled a shoulder back at Dick and, winking, dropped his shorts.

“ _321GO_!” he shouted, and holding his boxers over his head like a flag, hopped over the water and ran, buck naked, over the lake itself.

" _WoooooooHOooooooooooooOOoooo!_ "

Okay.

When Wally said he’d been practicing, Dick didn’t think he meant streaking.

He was probably referring to the running over water bit, but Wally was also _naked_ , and look, Dick was _seventeen_. His brain was _allowed_ to selectively process what was happening around him, and what was happening right now was that his boyfriend was literally streaking in front of him.

Even though the redhead was technically just a blur at the moment, going far too fast for Dick’s regular human eyes to track.

Robin gave himself a second to recollect his jaw, then snorted with laughter and busied himself wringing out the rest of Wally’s soaked clothes. It might have helped a bit more if Wally had grabbed his shirt and jeans as well, but eh, he was the one streaking, he could choose what he took with him. Personally, Dick wasn’t a fan of running with his junk flapping in the wind.

Wally looked like he was finishing off, rerouting towards their side of the lake, and it was getting chilly. Dick shucked off his own soaking boxers, wringing them out as well and reaching for his jeans.

Wally leaned into the turn at the far side of the lake, kicking up water behind him, and almost slipping onto his side as he spun a wide arc, but he _juuuust_ managed to keep traction, and whooped back to the shore.

When Wally got close enough to see his boyfriend, Dick was turned away. _Dude. He’s not even looking._

" _YO!_ " he yelled, “You even watching this fabulousne-“

_Oh._

Dick was _pouring_ himself into his skinny jeans. Sans boxers. Wally stopped cold, mouth agape, and … plunged into the lake.

Luckily, it was only half a foot deep at that point.

Dick was still shimming his way into the rest of his clothes, so Wally gathered his wits and climbed the rest of the way to shore quietly and donned his own boxers behind the tree.

"See?" he said as he came back around, "totally dry." He leaned in. "I could do yours if you want me to."

"Nah, don’t need ‘em," Dick grinned, asking, "So you going to do that for everything else now?"

"They’re too heavy; it would take too long. But …" he grabbed the blanket and shook it out, "toga me?"

It was a little funny. Two years ago, they wouldn’t have given a shit about walking around naked in front of each other, and now Wally was making sure he had boxers on before he came back into Robin’s line of sight, and Dick in turn yanked up his jeans before Wally reached shore.

He didn’t actually know how to tie a toga—well okay he had an _idea_ —but he wasn’t about to pass up this chance, so he shrugged and grabbed the blanket with an amused, “Just this once, but you need to learn to dress yourself _eventually_ , you know.”

He held up one end of the blanket to Wally, measuring the length of the toga from his waist down.

“Here, hold this,” he passed off that end to the redhead’s right hand, and while Wally held it up, Dick walked around him with the other end, wrapping it around his hips once and tying it off at the back.

It fell apart the moment he let go.

“Dammit.”

“Okay, let’s try this again.” He picked apart the knot, holding up one end to Wally again, and this time Dick leaned close, reaching around the speedster to pass the rest of the blanket around his body.

Wally smelled like the wind and outdoors, and now like water that wasn’t chlorinated and tapped. Even after that little dip in the lake, he radiated warmth, freckled chest and cheeks flushed from the run.

School and classes that he enjoyed and should have gone to, all dropped just to spend time with Dick.

It had been _nine years_.

He shouldn’t… he shouldn’t _need_ Wally anymore on this day. He should be _okay_.

But he wasn’t. And Wally knew, even though he never said it aloud. His best friend had trained himself to read Dick the way Robin had _trained_ himself to read _people_ , and it wasn’t for justice. It wasn’t for a greater cause or personal reasons.

It was just for him.

Silently winding the blanket around three times to make sure it didn’t fall apart, Dick pulled it up under Wally’s left arm and over his back to where he was still holding the other end of the blanket in front of him by his shoulder, securely tying it off in a Batman-taught knot.

He stepped back to observe his success. The long span of cloth was only wide enough to cover Wally’s long legs from waist to just below his knees, and one end of it stretched up, covering the right side of his chest and back. It probably didn’t look as good on him as Dick thought, but he didn’t really care.

“Looks great,” he told his best friend.

Then he stepped forward, wound his arms around his boyfriend, and buried his face into his neck.

Dick probably wouldn’t have appreciated how freaking _cute_ Wally thought he looked trying to get the toga to fit right, so he bit his bottom lip to keep from commenting on it. It was warm and snug when he finished though, and felt great, and of _course_ it looked great, it was on _him_ , right? He was just about to confirm that when Dick had his forehead pressed to the crook of his neck.

_Oh_.

He froze a second before winding his arms back around Dick, drawing him as close as he could.

He’d _almost_ forgotten - in the silliness of being dumped in the lake, chasing each other down, hell, making out - he’d almost forgotten what this day meant.

_Why they were here_.

Nine years.

He’d seen it get easier over nine years, slowly, painfully, and he’d even missed what must have been the worst of it in the very beginning. But it still hurt.

And he - he hoped Dick didn’t mind how silly they’d been that afternoon.

He ran one hand over the back of Dick’s head, carding his fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

Nine years since the day they fell, since Dick - if he’d been a little older or his parents more permissive - nine years since he could have joined them.

It gave Wally vertigo.

He gave into the urge to sit down, and, scooping Dick up, he wandered over to the swing and sat facing the sunset over the lake, Dick sideways in his lap. It was so beautiful, and honestly, he rarely took the time to appreciate the little things, the things he _had_. Things he definitely may not have ever had.

Dick’s hair tickled his cheeks as a breeze passed through, and he felt very aware of the fact that without the boy in his lap, not only would he not be there, lakeside looking at the reddest sunset he’d seen in a long time, he may not have been any of the placed that had forged his life in the last six years.

Because if he hadn’t seen that blurry smudge of a kid on his television set when he was 13 years old, he probably wouldn’t have gone into his garage that day and opened those bottles and blown himself sky high.

If that kid hadn’t stayed on the trapeze landing that day, Kid Flash—and so Wally West, to an extent—wouldn’t exist.

The feeling of vertigo, of fragility was back, awash with an overwhelming sense of gratitude that Dick made it, and Wally squeezed Dick tightly, burying his face right back into the brunette’s collarbone.

Butterflies and hurricanes indeed.

He didn’t protest being carried, and adjusted easily, like an oversized koala clinging to his branch.

How stupid and unrealistic and _cliché_ would it be to say he felt… safe?

Because Wally might drop him as a joke—not that Dick couldn’t hang on himself—but Wally _could_ and _did_ try to drop him sometimes, and Wally could leave even easier, run away and not look back, and Dick wouldn’t even be able to catch him.

Robin caught scores of strangers every week, and failed to catch him boyfriend every night.

Sighing once, Dick lifted his head, pulling back to look at Wally.

Sometimes, he was thankful that he didn’t remember every crime scene they swooped in to investigate, how much it had hurt to have that baseball bat crash into his body or the sound his ribs made as they cracked under Deathstroke’s boot.

But then there were times like this, _days_ like this when Dick was so very aware of the fact that if—and it was such a big ‘if’ that it was almost a ‘when’—something happened, he would probably forget.

Like he’d forgotten far too many details about his parents.

So he sat silently in his best friend’s lap, and did his best to memorize everything about this moment. Robin took in Wally’s arms warm around him, his hair askew and his face glowing in the sunset. Richard neatly categorized he sound and smell and taste of what it meant to feel safe.

And Dick committed to memory the amount of happiness one person could give him, running over everything he wished he could actually bring himself say.

_I’m glad you blew yourself up._

_I’m glad you wanted to be Kid Flash._

_I’m glad you liked me._

_I’m glad you loved me._

_I’m so thankful that you’re alive._

What came out of his mouth, however, was a simple and childlike, “Are we going now?”

"Uhm, sur-" Wally began, but was interrupted by long low growl from his stomach. "… but maybe I should finish off the tarts first."

Between the freezing dip in the lake and the running on water, he probably needed rest and more than a little to eat.

With one hand around Dick to keep him in place, he pushed the swing as far as he could back to the bags of food, precariously balancing on tip toe as he leaned over until his fingertips grazed the top tupperware.

"Gottit," he grinned, letting go and letting the swing slide back in the opposite direction. He popped off the cover and ate one, chewing thoughtfully and staring at the sunset as the swing rocked side to side.

His foot grazed the backpack he’d set beside the tree. The backpack with the homework he’d brought.

Well.

"Homework."

There were at least eight or so tarts left. They probably had time.

And now was as good a time as any.

"Hey, uh, Dick?" He swallowed the last bite. "Do you mind grabbing my bag real quick? I should, uhm …"

He let his sentence trail off, trying to suppress the subtle blush creeping into his cheeks as he gestured to the bag, just out of his arms reach, but within Dick’s.

… _Homework_?

“Um… yeah.”

_You brought **homework** with you?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With special appearance by Emily D.

"Hey, uh, Dick?" He swallowed the last bite. "Do you mind grabbing my bag real quick? I should, uhm …"

He let his sentence trail off, trying to suppress the subtle blush creeping into his cheeks as he gestured to the bag, just out of his arms reach, but within Dick’s.

… _Homework_?

“Um… yeah.”

_You brought **homework** with you?_

That… was more of a _Robin_ thing to do. Wally usually separated work from play without batting an eye, especially when it came to Dick. _Dick_ was the one who needed to have his book stolen or a hand stuck through his holocomp to make him stop working on school or a case.

Wally scooted them forward again, Dick’s feet brushing along the ground as he went. It wasn’t hard to remember when that _didn’t_ happen even when he was sitting on the swing alone. He’d _grown_. Was still growing.

And as much as he enjoyed being able to pull the taller-than-thou card on Artemis now, _finally_ , he was also aware that the more he grew, the more difficult it became to control his body. He had to retrain himself for every extra half inch, and that was, to put it lightly, a _pain_. But if Wally was going to grow some more, Dick was willing to put up with all the trouble just to not fall back.

It was a stupid thing to compete over, especially since it was out of both their control, but he had years of short jokes to make up for, okay?

Picking up the backpack, Dick swung it over to his own lap, surreptitiously grabbing the tart Wally was bringing to his mouth in the process. He drew back and grinned at his boyfriend, cheeks bulging and eyes bright, awkwardly chewing as he unzipped the backpack and peeled it open.

“Howar y’gon’ d’ h’mruk w’me s’tin’ in y’r lap?” Dick managed around his mouthful, wriggling in his seat to make the point.

Wally cleared his throat, because honestly, that was a pretty good question. The swing wasn’t exactly stable, and balancing food and a book and a boyfriend on a toga-covered-lap that threatened to blow up and expose his lovelies at any moment was kind of an ordeal.

 _Hmrph_ , he concurred, and managed to awkwardly slide Dick’s legs around to maneuver him into a crab-leg position straddling Wally, so at least Dick could keep himself in place if they had to.

That left him nose to nose with his raven-haired bf, and he couldn’t help but smile just slightly at the way Dick’s eyebrow’s quirked quizzically over his bright blue eyes and the corner of his peach lips twitched in amusement.

"There," Wally said, decisively handing the last tupperware full of tarts to Dick while Wally fished a book out of his bag: _The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson_.

"English," he explained helpfully, clearing his throat again. He was starting to sound _nervous_.

Which he was.

"I have uhm, uh, a thing - paper - this week."

And he did. A physics report. He wouldn’t need Emily for real until finals in a month, but Wally was desperately trying to carve an escape in case Dick laughed his ass off in two minutes.

He would have laughed a year ago for sure.

But maybe not this time, and he’d done a little of this for Artemis (who’d also laughed, kinda, but, _dude_ that’s what you _did_ for girlfriends so she had to at least give him that, and in the end he was pretty sure she liked it). The poetry thing hadn’t crossed his mind - nothing all that “romantic” had crossed his mind, exactly, since you didn't “do” that for _boyfriends_ \- and Dick maybe Dick wouldn't want that sort of thing, but ...

… and actually, Wally had already thought about Dick in poetry class that year.

Emily talked a lot about robins.

Most of the robin poems weren’t all that _directly_ related, but they put Dick on his mind, and some of the other poems …

He got a little red in the face that he’d felt so sappy about his best friend.

So.

"You, uh, wanna hear - w-what I’m studying?" It was an effort to keep his voice steady, and he didn’t wait for a response as he thumbed to the page.

Wrapping his arms around Dick and out past him, he held the book over Dick’s shoulders, so that he didn’t have to make eye contact as he was reading. “Uhm … "Hope" is the thing with feathers—"

Wally sort of side-eyed Dick, trying not to mumble as a red blush spread out over his cheeks. _This was stupid, right?_ But he cleared his throat and kept on.

"That perches in the soul—

And, uhm, sings the tune without the words—

And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—

And sore must be the storm—

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—

And on the strangest Sea—

Yet, never, in Extremity,

It asked a crumb—of Me.”

He trailed off into a sort of awkward silence, not sure if he should just, forge ahead onto another that he liked or wait for Dick to react or … what.

Dick drew back uncertainly, watching Wally’s eyes focused past his shoulders with almost desperate concentration, and it took only the first two lines for him to realize.

That his boyfriend—dorky, sciencey boyfriend—was reading him a _Dickinson_ poem… about _robins_.

He would have laughed. He probably should have laughed.

But this was beyond left field. Whatever words Dick tended to associate with his best friend, ‘romantic’ wasn’t really one of them. Dick was the one who went all out. The grand gestures, blatantly sappy declarations, those were all on him.

Wally liked to keep these things more… quiet. Smaller. He preferred having _plausible deniability_.

There was nothing deniable about what he was doing right now.

Wally wasn’t very good at recitation; Alfred wouldn’t be pleased. But this was also clearly not a regular occurrence, so Dick was willing to forgive him. And he kinda wanted to laugh, but. Well. Wally had a nice voice.

His mom used to read to him. No one had read to him in nine years.

The poem winded down. Dick cocked his head patiently, waiting for the inevitable awkwardness that would drag the speedster down the moment it was over.

And there it was.

“Why that one?” Robin kept his voice even and curious, swallowing the bubble of laughter in favor of not embarrassing his boyfriend any more than he already seemed to be.

 _Oh crap_. If Wally’s cheeks were flushed before, they were paper white now. _He asked_ _ **why**_.

The only thing Wally could think of worse than being laughed at in this situation was having to explain himself. He was having a hard time deciding whether or not to just say “Uh, I dunno, just for class I guess,” and run to the next poem or break down and admit that there wasn’t really any paper and that he might as well have doodled Dick’s name in the margins of his notes in English class all last fall (which he definitely did _not actually do_ ).

It was true that he wouldn’t have ever, _ever_ thought about any of this if he weren’t forced to pick a poem to take apart for his quarterly final; he never would have picked this one if he hadn’t been fighting with Dick … or rather, maybe he would have picked this one, but it wouldn’t have meant anything at all to him if he hadn’t been fighting with Dick for months at that point; if he wasn’t feeling reluctant to admit how lonely it was without his best friend.

If the fact he had loved that one _kiss_ he had with that best friend wasn’t constantly in the back of his mind …

 _Wow this was embarrassing_. But it was an honest question.

"Uhm, well, for finals during Winter Quarter we had to pick a poem to take apart and … I just, I dunno. Dude, she talks so _much_ about robins. It popped out, and turned out it kinda reminded me of you, that’s all. With the singing in storms and, uhm, never asking for help.” Wally swallowed. “I mean, I wouldn’t have normally. And today’s a big deal for you, so … thought I’d read it …?”

His sentence ended in an upturned questioning lilt: he still couldn’t tell whether Dick thought this was dumb or not. “I uh, have another if you want,” he murmured as he flipped to the next dog-eared page. It was the only book from that class he didn’t sell back.

 _Hmm this works nice with the sunset and all behind the lake_ …

"This one’s kinda long, but …" he began,

"Bring me the sunset in a cup,

Reckon the morning’s flagons up

And say how many Dew,

Tell me how far the morning leaps—

Tell me what time the weaver sleeps

Who spun the breadth of blue!”

Wally took a deep breath; he was starting to be at least a little less nervous now.

"Write me how many notes there be

In the new Robin’s ecstasy

Among astonished boughs—

How many trips the Tortoise makes—

How many cups the Bee partakes,

The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, who laid the Rainbow’s piers,

Also, who leads the docile spheres

By withes of supple blue?

Whose fingers string the stalactite—

Who counts the wampum of the night

To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House

And shut the windows down so close

My spirit cannot see?

Who’ll let me out some gala day

With implements to fly away,

Passing Pomposity? ”

He backed up a little when he was done, grinning and shrugging, still thumbing through the book for another one, in case Dick actually liked this. “That one’s just got ‘Robin’s ecstasy’ in it, that’s all,” he offered by way of “ _why_ ” with a little snicker.

Surprise was one thing; disbelief was entirely another. Dick wasn’t about to put Wally down for thinking about him while reading a poem in class when he was trying so hard to be romantic… and succeeding.

Dick was, after all, sapiosexual to a degree. And while Wally reciting poetry wasn’t exactly a turn-on, it did give him some serious butterflies when his boyfriend told him why.

But hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from slipping the speedster a smirk and a quip.

“What would you know about a robin’s _ecstasy_?” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “You haven’t seen what it’s like.”

 _Yet_ , his mind supplied without warning.

Wally cocked an eyebrow and shrugged meaningfully at Dick’s ‘robin’s ecstasy’ comment. He’d ask Dick to teach him _all about it_ later, trying to shrug off the thoughts that came unbidden— _how much he wondered what Dick would look like, what he’d sound like_ …

He chuckled inwardly—normally, he _**would**_ totally be doing this only to get laid— _that’s what dudes do, right?_ That’s why poetry was _invented_. But pfft, he sure as hell wasn’t betting on _that_ when he pulled his guy friend into his lap to read him _Dickinson_. He was lucky Dick wasn’t actually laughing his ass off and kicking him into the water again.

Wally’s brain could move as fast as his mouth, but it rarely did. Dick wasn’t sure if it was a conscious block or what, but he leaned forward, winding his arms around Wally’s neck and leaning against him so he could rest his chin on the redhead’s shoulder.

The sunset was warm on his back, but Wally was warmer, and… Dick didn’t even remember the last time he’d clung to a person like this, chest to chest. Bruce had never been much of a carry-your-kid-to-bed kind of parent. If he fell asleep in the Cave or in the couch, he’d usually be woken up and escorted to his room, and on the off chance that he was far too out of it for that, Bruce would slide his arms under his shoulders and knees and pick him up like he was an infant, not a toddler, head carefully supported in the crook of a large arm, as though he’d fall apart if he weren’t treated like the most fragile glass. There was no chance for him to hold back; no, Bruce was far too practical for that. It was easier to pick him up that way, and set him down as well, and he didn’t even have to worry about Dick’s… koala tendencies.

Unless Dick was only pretending, that is, and maneuvered himself in his ‘sleep’.

He tightened his arms around Wally and tried not to laugh. No wonder he was so clingy.

“Read me another one?” he breathed.

 _I like being read to_.

It wasn’t something he’d thought to tell anyone.

 _Yet_.

But maybe he could tell Wally.

 _Okay._ Wally reveled in Dick’s weight on his lap, the feel of his arms on his shoulders, the soft tones in his ear as he asked him to read another one. He flipped through pages and was starting to relax into it when his stomach grumbled.

“Ah, sure, just …” he pulled out one of the tarts from the tupperware now lodged on their laps and popped it in his mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing. “Shorry, here … kinda long, too.”

The pages flipped farther back.

"I have a Bird in spring

Which for myself doth sing—

The spring decoys.

And as the summer nears—

And as the Rose appears,

Robin is gone.”

Yet do I not repine

Knowing that Bird of mine

Though flown—

Learneth beyond the sea

Melody new for me

And will return.

Fast is a safer hand

Held in a truer Land

Are mine—

And though they now depart,

Tell I my doubting heart

They’re thine.

In a serener Bright,

In a more golden light

I see

Each little doubt and fear,

Each little discord here

Removed.

Then will I not repine,

Knowing that Bird of mine

Though flown

Shall in a distant tree

Bright melody for me

Return.”

The words hung in the air for a second. He hoped this one was pretty obvious … the “why” of it.

He dropped his head onto Dick’s shoulder.

I’m just … really glad you’re here, Dick."

Dick blinked. What could he say to that?

There was ‘me too’, which wasn’t nearly enough.

The ‘I love you’ that Wally already knew.

And ‘for now’—too morbid a thought for a day already clouded with unpleasant memories.

Too real to consider after nearly a year apart.

The only reply he could think of was in prose, Dickinson for Dickinson, but Richard was the one who knew the words and he pushed further away, safer in anonymity, and Dick wasn’t nearly clever enough to find something on his own. Romance wasn’t exactly Robin’s forte. That’s not how he was made.

Richard was unwilling to submit Wally to the same charms he used to trick women at Bruce’s parties. Dick couldn’t say he disagreed.

 _You should read to me more often_ , he shoved down, because Wally did enough for him already, and no one had asked him to visit Dick today. His best friend did all of it on his own, and really. Robin owed him enough.

The speedster’s body thrummed with warmth. Dick curled against it, content with the knowledge that Wally was there at all.

“Can we…” his voice came out so small, he had to restart. “Can we stay like this, just a little longer?”

“Sure, dude,” Wally said softly, and he put the book down on top of his bag at his feet, wrapping his arms tightly back around Dick, and pressed his face lightly into the crook of Dick’s neck. “As long as you want.”

The evening breeze was brisk-ish, but no match for Wally’s heat, and he was actually really comfortable in the makeshift toga and bare feet. It smelled like grass and tarts, and it was soft against his skin as he pushed against the ground beneath the swing, a little worn from the years of feet pressing their to launch the rider into the sky.

Wally’s feet never left the ground as he rocked them gently back and forth, in a hypnotic rhythm as the sun’s final rays spread across the sky. He didn’t know if it was because he was tired from running around all day , or if Dick just had a calming effect on him that he couldn’t quite get elsewhere, but …

It was just … really peaceful.

He planted a chaste, soft, fleeting kiss against Dick’s neck, marveling at the thrum of his pulse beneath his lips, the rise and fall of his ribs beneath his hands, the shape of his head tucked by Wally’s shoulder.

"We can be here as long as you want," he murmured again against his collarbone as he cradled his head there.

It had probably been a few minutes of silence, of Wally not running his mouth quicker than his feet and Dick not fidgeting his way off his boyfriend’s lap, but when Dick finally drew back, it felt as though only a moment had passed, time flying too fast for him to keep up.

His eyes met Wally’s.

Nearly five months since that first night Dick told his best friend that he loved him, nearly three months since Wally said it back. Almost three since Dick all but pulled out a promise ring in front of scores of the most important people in the world and Wally basically said yes.

But Dick wasn’t sure he’d ever believed him the way he did right now, when no one was in mortal danger, when he wasn’t screaming in his sleep or saying it first, when it wasn’t a special day for him and Wally had no obligations to look at him like—

 _Like_.

Like he was the most amazing thing in the world.

The ‘why’ of it had never been so irrelevant.

When Dick shifted back and Wally pulled away from Dick’s collarbone into the crisp bite of the evening air, the stars had started twinkling to life in the twilight. He blinked, lids heavy, and smiled up into Dick’s eyes, dyed dark blue in the evening light, and marveled at the way Dick could send goosebumps up his arms with a look like that.

And Dick kissed him.

Kissed him like his life was ending, nipped his lip because they might not be here tomorrow just like the bruise he was leaving, reveled in the taste and smell and _touch_ like it was his last time being here in Wally’s arms.

Dick kissed him with an abandon that had everything to do with his fear of falling and nothing at all, because he was falling deeper and deeper and almost off the swing, and he couldn’t bring himself to care at all.

He kissed Wally with such fervor that Wally’s vision went white for a moment, as the kiss dragged him under, like being dropped straight into the lake, overwhelmed with the taste and touch of _Dick_ and _nothing_ else. His palms tingled where they gripped Dick’s shirt, fisting the cloth as he navigated the sweet, subtle push and pull of Dick above him.

Each kiss was _warm, wet, electric_ with a strawberry tart chaser, and Wally wound his fingers into Dick’s hair to keep him from having to chase that too far.

When Dick shifted back and Wally pulled away from Dick’s collarbone into the crisp bite of the evening air, the stars had started twinkling to life in the twilight. He blinked, lids heavy, and smiled up into Dick’s eyes, dyed dark blue in the evening light, and marveled at the way Dick could send goosebumps up his arms with a look like that.

But the surge of Dick in his hands proved to be a tide he couldn’t quite navigate, and he felt himself going under again … under the swing as it unceremoniously tipped the two squirming unruly occupants flat on ground beneath it.

It took everything Robin had not to instinctively vault off Wally, because _that_ would hurt the redhead far more than a short fall, but the result of it was smashing his chin into his boyfriend’s collarbone and clamping his teeth down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to fill his mouth with liquid copper.

 _Ow_.

At least Wally was whimpering too, rubbing at his clavicle to relieve the sharp pain of bone hitting bone. Dick scrambled off his chest and turned his head to inconspicuously spit onto the grass while Wally’s eyes were closed, then glanced back to the speedster, tongue gingerly poking at the split in his cheek.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching out to cushion Wally’s head in his palm, feeling for a bump. Oh, there definitely was one, but it wouldn’t be very big. The grass broke a bit of the fall. Robin couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Dude, your balance needs work.”

Okay, so maybe he was laughing a lot.

Dick leaned forward for a final nip to Wally’s bottom lip.

“Think that’s a sign that we should head out now?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a touch of RP-ness to it; it mentions Mar'i, daughter of an alternate-universe Dick and Starfire (as according to DC comics canon) visting Dick in the present dimension. She's fully explained, though; no need to read anything else.

“You okay?” Dick asked, reaching out to cushion Wally’s head in his palm, feeling for a bump. Oh, there definitely was one, but it wouldn’t be very big. The grass broke a bit of the fall. Robin couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Dude, your balance needs work.”

Okay, so maybe he was laughing a lot.

Dick leaned forward for a final nip to Wally’s bottom lip.

“Think that’s a sign that we should head out now?”

"Haha, yeah," Wally said, cradling the back of his head. He sat up and tucked his head beneath his knees to shake away a lingering dizziness—not so much from the _fall_ as from—

"My balance is fine," he mumbled, pouting. "Usually."

 _When you’re not kissing me until I can’t see straight_.

The toga shed bright green blades of grass as he gathered the remaining tupperware into the bag. His damp clothes overflowed the top as he tried to zip them in snug enough to at least not fall out as they ran, even if it didn’t quite close all the way. Luckily, his shoes had dried enough to make the trip.

He didn’t feel an iota of guilt as he plopped the bulky, awkward bag into Dick’s arms.

"And you’re in charge of _that_ , Mr. Dunkenstein,” Wally frowned. “And you better hope for your sake that this toga doesn’t fall apart on the way.” To be fair, he wasn’t totally sure if the consequences of that were a promise or a threat.

Dick’s grin, already big from watching Wally’s struggles with the zipper, widened.

“Dunkenstein?”

Wally muttered a ‘shut up,’ and Dick failed to stifle laughter, hoisting the backpack over his shoulders and slinging his arms over Wally’s.

Wally spun around and crouched down, offering his back to Dick and grinning: “All aboard the Gotham Observatory Express!”

Dick’s knees gripped the speedster’s sides, and the moment Wally was sure nothing was going to drop and die, he was off.

Dick barely managed to tuck his face into Wally’s neck to protect it from the wind.

Running with Wally was always awesome, but more in the ‘ _I know we’re moving but I don’t really know what’s happening around me_ ’ sort of way. It was exhilarating because if he fell, he would be dead before he knew what was happening. He wouldn’t even have the split second he’d need to push off the ground and onto his feet. It was painful because he was so completely vulnerable.

But it was amazing because it was Wally.

Frankly, even though Barry could probably keep him safer, Dick would rather ride with Wally in any given situation.

The halt at the observatory felt sudden even though Dick knew that Wally tended to decelerate before stopping, and Dick hopped off nimbly, easily masking any disorientation by standing still a moment too long.

“It’ll be a clear night,” he commented, raising his head to look at the sky. “It was cloudy last year.”

"Mmmhmm," Wally agreed, sidestepping one of the ornate concrete benches surrounding the observatory in favor of flopping on to the grass in front. They were on side of the mountain facing the city, but plenty of stars dotted the sky despite a fair amount of light pollution.

And Gotham was beautiful from afar. Brighter up here than it even seemed inside the city itself, Wally mused. _Huh. Smog, maybe?_

The grass was cool and a little damp—not that that would bother him after earlier today—but the picnic-blanket toga was still warm. There was just enough fabric for him to comfortably fold his legs Indian style; he reached up and grabbed Dick’s hand, tugging him down.

"Come check out Orion. You can see up his greek skirt-thingy from down here."

“Of course the you’d want to look up his kilt,” he let Wally pull him down, laughing even as his butt took a hard hit from the ground, turning his next word into an, “Oof!”

The first time Wally brought him here, Dick had been surprised. He’d expected to see the ocean from wherever his best friend took him to cheer him up, not Gotham, because even now, he was pretty sure that Wally didn’t like Gotham, considering he made it his personal mission to whisk Dick away whenever he could.

But Robin loved his city, and he should have given his friend more credit. Wally made every aspect of this particular day about _him_ , and the skyline was beautiful from where they sat, even Bludhaven not visible from the right side of the city.

Bludhaven had every potential to be like Gotham, someday. God knew that it needed its own protector.

The sky was darkening, and that only made the view brighter, twinkling with hundreds of lights that came on despite every Gothamite knowing that they should get home before it was fully dark. The lights at the other end of the city went out sooner; fewer cars on the streets and no one willing to brave the streetlights unless necessary.

“We’re not going in?” Dick asked after a moment, hopping back to his feet and eyeing the observatory. There were only three guards per shift, rotating every eight hours, but they’d never been caught before. “C’mon, man. You’ll get a better view up Orion’s kilt through the telescope.”

"Sure." Wally hopped back up to his feet and waited expectantly as Dick dug a tiny scrambling device out of wherever it was he was keeping his belt at the moment; Wally actually hadn’t seen it on him that day.

The small black boxes came with tiny suction cups so that Wally could affix them to the security cameras outside the building. It was a college observatory, and security was relatively lax, but there were still a couple of hoops to jump through. He and Dick paced carefully around to the other side of the building, staying just beyond the range of the cameras before Wally blurred in and nabbed the three cameras. They’d loop the last three minutes of uneventful footage until they were removed.

Dick, meanwhile, hoisted himself up the observatory wall, headed to the small windows around the dome beneath the major skylight that opened above the telescope. It was closed firmly, but they’d handle that inside.

Meanwhile, the tiny windows were just small enough to be not carefully secured, and just big enough for them to squeeze through on their backs once they’d jimmied them open.

Wally tossed a little gravel at the foot of the wall as Dick tight roped by to let him know he was coming before dashing straight up it.

He hissed as he almost skittered over and off the other side of the narrow ledge at the top, but Dick’s firm grasp kept him from needing a couple weeks of healing from a broken arm.

He playfully crowded against Dick, hurrying him ahead to the dome.

“Would you—Wally—” Robin barely managed to keep his voice down, scowling over his shoulder, “Quit _jostling_ me!”

It wasn’t going to get the job done any faster.

Breaking into the observatory was something they did pretty much every year, so they knew that the lone guard inside wouldn’t come by the dome anytime soon. He preferred to watch the security videos from his office, and once they were in, the footage would be looped until they were out again.

“Ready?” Dick waited for Wally’s nod, then activated the remote scrambler. “Thirty seconds. Go.”

Thirty seconds to jimmy open the window, dash inside, and attach the loopers onto the cameras before the footage was restored, and Kid Flash managed it as successfully as ever. It helped that the dome, despite being large, only had two cameras within range. Not enough to pull attention to their screens if they were scrambled for only a few seconds, and not enough for Wally to need more time to get all of them.

Deactivating the scrambler, Robin carefully climbed down to the window as well, folding his body neatly through the opening and landing quietly on the floor. Plugging his holocomp into the computer inside and hacking the rest of the CCTV system was easy.

If he did end up going to Gotham U, Dick was going to have to do something about their security. It was absolutely atrocious.

“You can go turn on the power,” he told Wally once he was sure the cameras wouldn’t pick up anything, and Kid Flash was gone in a blur. Dick quickly checked the camera feeds to ensure that every switch was off, so that nothing unexpected would suddenly come to life when the main power came back on.

Wally was back, but Robin couldn’t hear the security guard coming in to check anything, so they were safe for now.

Grinning, Dick eased open the skylight with a few taps of his fingers and memorized the current direction of the telescope.

“You want me to point it up Orion’s kilt, then?”

Wally ambled up behind his boyfriend in the dark, his features only illuminated by the dim flicker of buttons and lights and doodads on the electric panels controlling the large telescope.

"Yeah," he agreed, wrapping his arms around Dick from behind, whispering in a husky voice in his ear: "If we stick it up far enough to see his sword, we can spot the Orion Nebula on it.”

Dick rolled his eyes but pulled up his holocomp and Googled the coordinates for the nebula, and the telescope whirred as it wandered over to the proper spot in the sky. Without letting go of Dick, Wally bent around him to look into the tiny eyepiece.

His eyes adjusted to find a [round](http://d1jqu7g1y74ds1.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/orionnebula.jpg)[, ](http://d1jqu7g1y74ds1.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/orionnebula.jpg)[whitish](http://d1jqu7g1y74ds1.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/orionnebula.jpg)[, ](http://d1jqu7g1y74ds1.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/orionnebula.jpg)[wispy](http://d1jqu7g1y74ds1.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/orionnebula.jpg) [object](http://d1jqu7g1y74ds1.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/orionnebula.jpg), third “star” down in Orion’s sword. It was beautiful.

"There she is," he murmured, backing away to let Dick take a look without unwrapping around him. "You know, I’m probably gonna take an Astronomy class in the fall? The professor’s a huge Big Bang guy. It should be really awesome; he’s big into physics changing across the universe, bubble universes, you know, _pocket dimensions_.”

Wally grinned and slipped his hands forward into Dick’s jean pockets.

"Oop, found _two_ ," he stage-whispered. "Where’s my _Nobel prize_?"

“I found one before you,” Dick said before he could stop and think about it, and then his mouth just kept going without his permission. “I think I should get that Nobel prize.”

Wally pulled back just enough to give him a quizzical look, but Dick was floored himself. He hadn’t thought about her all day. He’d considered telling Wally, sure, but not today and certainly not now. It was just a random thought, something he figured he should talk to someone about, but Mar’i had stepped into and become somewhat of a constant in his life over the past month, and…

Dick supposed he’d subconsciously just been looking for an opening, and took the first one that came by.

Even if it was kinda stupid and didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

“I’ve… been in one, actually,” he continued awkwardly, Wally’s chest warm against his back and his hands warmer in his front pockets. “A while ago. It was kinda cool.”

And weird.

And his daughter was a _scientist_.

She loved chemistry and biology, like Wally.

She could _fly_.

No, really.

Like Superman.

Dick stared straight ahead, suddenly realizing that he was a lot better with numbers than he was at storytelling.

“I met someone,” he started quietly, feeling Wally lean closer to catch his words. “From an alternate universe. She just dropped in on me in Gotham one day.” Robin shook his head, remembering quizzing her to make sure she wasn’t an enemy. “Apparently in another world, I… had a daughter. With a Tamaranean princess. That’s an alien species we haven’t encountered in this dimension yet. Anyway, that entire dimension got destroyed somehow, but Mar’i… the daughter of Dick Grayson and Koriand’r? She survived.”

Mar’i. Marie.

“She lives in a pocket dimension now. Travels from universe to universe trying to find a way to… restore her own universe?” _Why did he start telling Wally this again?_

“She found me.” _I like the kid_. “I think she’s going to be sticking around for a while.” _Hopefully for a long time_. “Thought you should know, is all.”

Wally’s mouth hung open for a second. This wasn’t a conversation he’d expected that night—or _any_ , really—Dick casually mentioning he’d been in a pocket dimension with an alternate-universe daughter he’d had with alien royalty.

It was almost _off-hand_ the way he talked about it.

He brushed away the twinge of irrational jealousy that struck him initially with the phrase “I met someone” ( _geeze, Dick be careful with that phrase_ ) to let the enormity of the situation settle over him.

A _daughter_. Named _Mar’i_.

It was all he could do to keep from trembling.

 _Wow_.

Questions overwhelmed him— _When was this? How *old* is she? What’s she like? How long has she been here? Why didn’t you mention this to me when it **happened**?_ —followed by strange pangs of sadness, perhaps residual from the tragedy that was Marie, with a strange giddy excitement, not only from the fact he might meet someone who controlled their navigation through alternate universes, but Dick’s _daughter_ who did it. The things he could learn from her alone … well, it was probably better than that Stanford class.

He barely knew where to start.

He unwound halfway from Dick, looking at him excitedly in his bight blue eyes: “W-what? Did you just say daughter? A-a trans-dimensional _daughter_? Dude, w-when?” He tactfully left out the selfish _How could you not tell me sooner?_ “That’s _amazing_. Like is she older than you? How does she do it? She _lives_ in a pocket dimension? Aren’t there other people? What’s she _like_?”

Dick blinked, waiting for the barrage of questions to be over before pulling Wally’s hands out of his pockets so he could turn around in his arms.

“ _You_ sound excited,” he snickered, looping his own arms around Wally’s shoulders and leaning back against the giant telescope. Sobering enough to narrow his eyes in a glare, he curled his fingers a little tighter than strictly necessary into the short red strands at the nape of Wally’s neck. “If you even _think_ about flirting with her—and believe me, KF, _I’ll know_ —I’m gonna tie you up _so fast_ that speedster or not, you won’t even see it coming—” Wally opened his mouth, looking like he didn’t exactly mind the idea, so Robin clamped a hand over his lips because he wasn’t done yet. “—and leave you at the Scarecrow’s doorstep as a really belated Christmas present.”

His boyfriend muffled something against his hand; Dick’s eyes narrowed further. “That better have been a promise not to so much as _look_ at her weird, or I might just do it right now instead of waiting for you to meet her.”

Wally might have tried to laugh, but Robin was having none of that. His palm remained pressed against his mouth to avoid another ramble before he could finish explaining. “As for your questions, yes, I did say ‘daughter’. Doesn’t seem like the universe is very bent on me having a son, which I’m perfectly okay with. I met her a little over two weeks ago, when you were in China. Hence the reason you didn’t find out about her from your usual late night check-in. No, she is not older than me, she’s actually younger. Fifteen, I think. She has a…” Here Dick has to pause, flailing a little. “This device. It opens a portal to different dimensions and points in time? She said she can navigate through time and space as she chooses, and I didn’t press her on how it works since, well, I kinda had other things on my mind at that point. Yes, she lives in a pocket dimension. And… no.”

That was the not-okay part.

“There’s no one else there.”

What was she like? The only word Dick could think of was ‘amazing’, and even he could see that that wasn’t much of a description.

“She has glowing green eyes,” he blurted instead.

Wally finally wiggled out from underneath Dick’s hand, grin stretched wide across his face.

“Dick, that’s _incredible_. And green eyes, huh? She must be a looker,” he teased. “I dunno about that flirting thing now, dude.”

He quickly placed a finger over Dick’s lips before he could bite out a reply, and wrapped his free arm tighter around his boyfriend’s waist. “Guess you’ll just have to make sure I’m properly … distracted.”

The finger wound its way around the back of Dick’s ear, gently pushing a strand of soft black hair behind it, and Wally’s palm followed to cradle his cheek as he leaned in to capture Dick’s lower lip lightly between his own.

There was just something about the way Dick was talking about her, about family, he had a … lightness that Wally almost never saw on April 1st. Like … like …

 _Hope_.

And it made Wally want to kiss him stupid.

A soft moonlight poured into the skylight as a stray cloud passed beyond it. Crisp shadows cut from the giant telescope over their forms, bleached blue under the night sky. Wally smiled into the kiss before running his tongue between Dick’s lips, deepening it.

He held Dick against him like he couldn’t hold him close enough, like he hadn’t seen him in forever, and he kissed him, languidly, relishing his taste and the way he sent tingles down his arms and warmed away the chill of the open room.

He slipped his hands into Dick’s back pockets this time, giving him a quick squeeze:

“So when”

_Kiss._

“do I get”

_Kiss._

“to meet”

_Kissie._

“your princess alien daughter?”

 _Smooch_ … **_wait_**.

 _Alien_.

“Did you say _**glowing**_ green eyes?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a touch of RP-ness to it; it mentions Mar'i, daughter of an alternate-universe Dick and Starfire (as according to DC comics canon) visting Dick in the present dimension. She's fully explained, though; no need to read anything else.

Dick felt Wally stiffen in his arms, and moved to trap his boyfriend’s hands between the telescope and his jeans before he could remove them. Quirking an amused eyebrow, he did his best not to laugh.

“Yes, I did,” he paused, wondering how much of what he said Wally actually heard while staring at his mouth. “You know, like Miss M’s, when she’s using her powers, except Mar’i’s are like that all the time. No whites, just green. And her hair does this weird purplish glowy thing when she flies. Like Miss M, again. She’s got the whole superstrength thing going for her too.”

He neglected to mention that she could pick Ellie up like she was a rag doll. “And she… blasts energy from her hands, I think. Something of the sort.” Dick drummed his fingers against Wally’s arms. “I need to sit her down and grill her about all her powers and how they work one day.”

It was interesting that the human genes won out when it came to physical appearance, but other than that, Mar’i was almost entirely Tamaranean.

“I don’t know when you can meet her. She comes and goes as she wants.” Or when Dick manages to emotionally blackmail her. He figured it was his right as pseudo-parent. “Alfred says she looks like me, but honestly, I think she looks like my mom.”

Then again, people said he looked like his mom too, so maybe Alfred was right.

Wally stayed quiet, because as much fun Dick made of his mouth for running faster than his brain, his best friend knew him, and knew when he had… more to say. That he would, eventually. Despite how slow Dick’s thought processes might seem to him, Wally was willing to let him sort _some_ things through himself. Give him _time_.

Dick kissed him just for that, then leaned his head onto the metal behind him, watching Wally through half-lidded eyes.

“Is it weird,” he finally asked. “That I’ve known her for all of a few weeks and she already feels like family?”

A grin stretched across Wally’s face. “No, of course not, dude.” He squinted up past the telescope into the sky. “I’m sure there’s some sort of ancient cosmic connection between you and Mr. Dick Tamaranian-Princess-Husband that wiped its _inter-dimensional Daddy cooties_ all over you when she arrived.”

Dick was staring at him flatly when he glanced back down, but Wally couldn’t stop smiling. “But no, really. It’s awesome, and given everything, not all that weird, right?”

He was so glad that Dick had found family. _So, so glad_.

He tried to wiggle his hands out of Dick’s back pockets to fool with the telescope, but to no avail. “So she shoots energy blasts, huh? Do you think she’s interested in joining the team?”

Dick was totally going to stare for another few seconds, because seriously, _inter-dimensional daddy cooties_?

“I… don’t think so.” Maintaining a staredown with Wally didn’t use to be this hard. Just _looking_ at those green eyes didn’t always make his feel weak in the knees and coil a ball of warmth in his chest… right?

Or was it only that he’d never noticed before?

“She’s trying to find a way to rebuild her world. Get her family back.” Instead of moving on and finding a new family like he had, but he couldn’t blame her for that. Mar’i didn’t have a Bruce or an Alfred or a Clark or a Wally. She didn’t have anyone to fall back on.

Dick’s arms slid under Wally’s, circling him in a loose hug even as he wriggled back against his palms. “She doesn’t want to stay here, I think.”

Leaning back against the telescope, Dick was a good bit shorter than Wally, so he pulled him close, chest to chest until he could bury his nose into the bare, freckled shoulder and just… breathe.

“Inter-dimensional daddy cooties,” he half-mouthed against Wally’s skin, huffing a laugh. “Well, if I have them, now you do, too.”

Wally chucked softly, leaning his head to the side to rest on top of Dick’s reveling in the soft flow of Dick’s breath on his collarbone.

"Mmm … thas’ cool," he whispered softly.

And it _was_. Actually, while he hadn’t given kids or whatever a lot of thought, he was surprised at how warm and fuzzy it made him feel. And not that he would bring it up with his seventeen-year-old _**boy**_ friend, but, well, one of the few thoughts he’d given kids lately involved cloning. Conner had two daddies, and he turned out okay.

Regardless, none of this was relevant because he wasn’t about to end up on “Seventeen and Man-clone Pregnant” or whatever.

Years and years not relevant. If … ever.

Clouds rolled past the moon, drawing Wally back to the present starry sky. “Do you know where she’s from? Like, the part of the sky where she’d have lived if this were her universe? I want to see where this alien temptress stole you away to.”

Dick couldn’t help but smile, almost instinctively tightening his hold.

_I’m not going anywhere, Kid Idiot._

“Tamaran?” His head turned to the side, mouth trailing over heated freckles, seeking Wally’s pulse. Eyes closed, he could feel the speedster’s flush. “I don’t know where that is. Haven’t met any Tamaraneans from our dimension yet. For all I know, Tamaran doesn’t exist in our world.”

There it was. The quick flutter of a butterfly’s wings against his lips.

“Koriand’r lived on earth, so she couldn’t really steal me away anywhere.” Dick’s hands slipped past the folds of the blanket, long fingers splaying over the bare skin of Wally’s back. “And if she did…”

His tongue darted out, just for a taste. Maybe to feel Wally shiver.

“You could just steal me back.”

Wally’s hummingbird pulse picked up as he _hmm’d_ and shivered under Dick’s hands and soft lips; the contrast between their warmth and the, ah, drafty-ness of the toga was delicious.

"You bet I would," he murmured, as he reluctantly abandoned Dick’s back pockets to tug him as close as he could, chest to chest, in a petulant show of possessiveness and caught his lips, nibbling gently at the bottom one, asking for entrance.

It was always a surprise how comfortable, how right, Dick felt against him— _no, “surprise” was too strong a word_ —it felt too perfect to be really surprising, and he already knew Dick’s body inside and out— _okay not inside, but—_ he was so _familiar_ , his heft, the way he moved, the slope of his shoulders, the angle of his hips that Wally had already held a million times in battle, in teasing jest when he threw him over his shoulder or grabbed him for a piggy-back ride or—

In hindsight, Wally could see, really understand, that even then all that was an excuse, a false front for his want—a _need_ —to really be close to him, to know _this_ , too, to know _everything_.

He wrapped his arms tighter around his boyfriend, crossing them at the small of Dick’s back, and Dick was still just slim enough to let him grasp each hip opposite his hands. _This_ closeness.

It felt so _right_.

Dick melted into Wally, too, like it was as natural as flipping off a rooftop, like he was _used_ to leaning his weight on someone else, trusting his best friend to hold him up as his hands swept down the length of Wally’s back, past the elastic of his boxers down to the crease at the end of his ass and starting over from the curve of his neck, memorizing every muscle and vertebra like he’d memorized the streets and alleys of Gotham, pouring over the maps for hours and hours so he could draw one from memory and prove to Bruce that he was ready to put on the costume that he’d designed and Alfred had stitched together.

This… was easier, and he didn’t really know why—it wasn’t like his life depended on it. Maybe because everything about Wally was _always_ easy, and Bruce just liked making things difficult. Maybe it was the fact that he’d trusted Wally with everything he had since he was twelve years old, and this was nothing new.

Or maybe it was just who he was.

Dick was an aerialist. If he couldn’t trust people to catch him, well. He’d have been dead before his sixth birthday.

He felt his mouth open in invitation almost instinctively; Wally’s tongue swept in without preamble, and there it was. The dizziness, the heightened sensitivity, the stomach-dropping sensation of free-fall. The gut-wrenching jolt of being caught moments before he hit the ground.

There were no fireworks like there had been with Barbara. None of the curious _fascination_ as with Zatanna.

His lips detached from Wally’s with a final lick and kissed down his jaw, seeking the same faint taste of lake water on his skin as was in his mouth, gently pulling at the skin of his neck with his teeth, hunting for a particularly erogenous area, working out what Wally liked and learning from it.

No one was likely to understand how _this_ could be better than his admittedly mind-blowing first time, or sparks behind his eyelids.

But for all his pyromaniac tendencies, Dick was an adrenaline junkie at heart, and even though he no longer jumped without his grappling hook, he missed the _rush_ of knowing there was nothing to catch him but the trapeze _another person_ would pass him, of falling and falling and not knowing exactly _when_ he would stop, and god, he thought, sucking at his boyfriend’s Adam’s apple, feeling it slip out from under his lips and return as Wally swallowed, it was the best feeling in the world.

Maybe it was his odd metabolism that ran him a little hotter, but Wally had become really sensitive to temperature difference, and the play between Dick’s warm, wet tongue and his cooler lips in the brisk night air was incredible, and a shiver— _vibration_ —shuddered down his spine.

Dick left him breathless like he was running too fast to take in air, knocked the wind out of him like every wall he’d ever crashed into.

He wasn’t the most patient person in the the world, and he was having trouble holding back, resisting the urge to _pin_ Dick to the wall, to slide his hands under that stupidly clingy t-shirt, those unfairly tight jeans, to drive goosebumps up his back as he sucked down _his_ neck, drawing out the sounds he'd heard Dick make just once or twice before—

— _augh_. Wally stomach dropped, and he groaned internally. _Don’t lose it, West._

This was definitely not the day to push this. _How lame would it be to be reminded of this day if they did … something_ _ **more**_ _for the first time_ _on this anniversary?_

He groaned externally, almost in pain, as he gingerly, subtly angled his hips farther from Dick and slowed his hands.

Pulling back, face flushed and breathless, he whispered, “We probably shouldn’t do this here …”

Dick's lips tilted up in a smirk, arms circling Wally’s waist to pull him close again. “Yeah?” Resting his chin on the redhead’s shoulder, he toyed with the knot of the toga. “Where would you like to do it, then?”

Oh.

Well, at least Wally couldn’t see his flaming face, because Dick only meant making out, not.

Er.

_Do **It**._

“I mean, uhm,” he smothered a laugh into Wally’s neck, pressing another long kiss to the skin before slipping out from between him and the telescope.

Wally’s cheeks flushed at Dick’s obviously misspoken question … but still. Every bone in his body— _heh_ —was still screaming to hold Dick closer, to feel the ripple of his abs against his own, to taste the sweet and salty flavor of exhilaration and adventure on Dick’s skin, to suck marks in ticklish places—

—and the cool air that flooded the space where Dick once stood brought a sense of longing, neediness, want that Wally had never quite felt before.

“Alright,” Dick said, “we’ll get going before security comes around on patrol.” They were going to need his grappling hook to get back up; Wally had yet to master the art of running straight up a wall—or in this case running a curve up the dome—and Dick wasn’t really willing to risk a crash. “Go get the loopers. I’ll wait here.”

Wally could barely remember a time when Dick hadn’t been part of his life, so close and _always yet so far_ in ways that had taken Wally years to admit, and, given the events of the last months as they finally confronted their feelings, it was starting to feel asymptotic.

But he could handle it: whatever Dick needed. _Years_ , if necessary.

He could certainly last through the night.

He let himself tip forward into Dick’s absence and casually catch himself on the bottom of the telescope before giving a sharp salute and snatching the loopers from their discreet hiding places around the room. Tucking them into the folds of his toga, he wrapped one arm around Dick while he prepared the grapple.

"Well, my lady? Shall we abscond to your castle?" he grinned.

“Watch it, West, or I’ll drop you.”

Wally only gave him a bigger grin in return, which Dick found slightly alarming considering the number of times he _had_ dropped the speedster, purely out of spite. Never from a height at which he’d be hurt, of course, but the sentiment remained.

_Huh_. Maybe Wally had a bigger masochistic streak in him than Robin was aware.

Winding his free arm tightly around Wally’s waist, Robin drew him close in a practiced hold and aimed his grappling hook, but this time Wally carelessly tossed both arms around him, burying his face in the crook of Dick’s neck and very deliberately pressing their bodies together. The smell of grass and lake water drifted to his nose, Wally’s hair soft tickling his cheek, a bare shoulder pressing into his lips.

Robin nearly missed.

He stole a quick, dirty kiss in retaliation once they were both on their feet, now atop the dome, and dashed away and off the building before Wally could gather his wits enough to give chase.

The only way to win against a speedster was, after all, distraction.

Their bags were waiting on the grass where they’d left them, and Dick waited for Kid Flash to run back and collect the last of the loopers. It barely took five seconds.

“Back to Gotham, I guess.” He went around Wally to hop onto his back, but his boyfriend clearly had other plans.

“This is _beyond_ impractical, Wally!” But of course the speedster couldn’t hear him over the rush of the wind, so Dick just grumbled and nipped at his collarbone—hard—because Wally was carrying him princess-style _again_ , and he deserved it.

Wally’s chortle didn’t last long because they arrived at the Observatory zeta to Dick’s place in under a minute. He tapped in a well-memorized code to a beam near the manor and let the blue light warp around them until they stepped out a couple of blocks away from Dick’s house.

He plopped Dick down onto the sidewalk and scooped up the bags, slinging one free arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. who knew how long he’d be able to do that?

"Can I … walk you home?"

Dick just laughed and they strolled back up the hill to Wayne Manor, leaning into each other’s warmth.

At the door, Wally handed Dick the now empty tupperware and ran a hand behind his neck.

_Ugh_. So much work at school … which he totally didn’t want to do, but …

"So, when can you hang out again?"


	7. Chapter 7

Wally’s chortle didn’t last long because they arrived at the Observatory zeta to Dick’s place in under a minute. He tapped in a well-memorized code to a beam near the manor and let the blue light warp around them until they stepped out a couple of blocks away from Dick’s house.

He plopped Dick down onto the sidewalk and scooped up the bags, slinging one free arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. who knew how long he’d be able to do that?

"Can I … walk you home?"

Dick just laughed and they strolled back up the hill to Wayne Manor, leaning into each other’s warmth.

At the door, Wally handed Dick the now empty tupperware and ran a hand behind his neck.

 _Ugh_. So much work at school … which he totally didn’t want to do, but …

"So, when can you hang out again?"

“Tonight,” Dick wound his fingers into Wally’s. “I was thinking… _Pulp Fiction_. Or a _Godfather_ marathon. Or,” he frowned thoughtfully. “I guess we could do _Emperor’s New Groove_.”

The speedster blinked at him, and Dick snorted, reaching to unlock the manor doors. “What, were you really going on leave me on the front porch, ‘smile the while you kiss me sad adieu… till we meet again’?” Wally at least had the grace to look ashamed. “Yeah, not happening. C’mon, Romeo,” he tugged the speedster inside, closing and relocking the door and making a beeline towards the entertainment room. “I promise I won’t make you late for class tomorrow, but tonight we’re gonna pop in a movie and make out on the couch.”

It was a very big, very comfy couch.

“Alfred, we’re home!” he yelled as loud as he could, just in case Alfred was up in the West Wing. He’d get a talking to about using his inside voice any other time, because Alfred could hear him just fine when he _didn’t_ shout—sometimes Dick wondered how it was possible that the butler didn’t need a walkie-talkie to keep up with them—but on days like this, the ageing man indulged him and Dick had learned to take his wins where he got them.

Pushing Wally into the kitchen as they passed, Dick gave him a cheeky grin. “Gather snacks. I’ll set it up.”

‘Set it up’ actually meant ‘find the DVDs’, which only took a moment, because the first two were both Dick _and_ Bruce’s favorites, and the last one was in the remarkably small pile of _Disney_ that he owned. Spooning up against one of the arms of the couch, Dick fanned them out for Wally when he came back in, bearing cookies and chips and… more strawberry desserts.

They probably made enough to last a month.

Not that Dick minded.

“Pick one.”

"Mmmphhhhhhhmmm," Wally hummed through a half-eaten Oreo cookie as he considered his options and plopped the snacks down on the table.

Wally couldn’t decide, eventually playing a mental game of eeny meeny miny mo: “Looth lik itsh

The Emperor’s New Groove.”

He swallowed and plucked the DVD off the couch and headed toward the TV, toga billowing out slightly. “I’m all about the ponchos thing today anyway. They knew what they were doing.”

Alfred, for his part, had taken Wally’s toga in stride, simply plucking Wally’s backpack from his hands and heading toward the laundry room with a slight grin but not a word. Not that anyone at Stanford would have even noticed he came home wearing a picnic blanket, but he was thankful that he wouldn’t have to do laundry himself.

And he maybe didn’t try hard enough not to flash Dick as he bent over to pop in the DVD but oh well.

“Mm,” Dick hummed, not-so-subtly tilting his head for a better view. “I can see that.”

He made grabby hands at Wally until his boyfriend rolled his eyes and shifted close enough to grab, letting Dick pull him down onto the couch and arrange his limbs until they were both comfortable, Wally sprawled between Dick’s legs and squishing him back against the couch.

Propping his free foot on the coffee table and tangling the other with Wally’s on the couch, Dick wrapped his arms around the redhead and tugged him even closer. Wally remained limp until he was done fussing, long since used to the whole process.

“I remember when I always used to be the little spoon,” Robin said gleefully, chin digging into Wally’s shoulder. “I think I like this better.”

"It’s not a race,” Wally whined, _totally_ lying, because it _totally_ was. “You better not win- _win_ , dude. I’ll regret giving you enough piggy back rides to stunt my growth. It’s a miracle I’m as tall as I am.”

Dick had also arranged Wally out-of-arm’s-reach of the table and he lazily flailed one arm in that direction in protest. Dick rolled his eyes and grabbed another cookie for the squirming jerk in his lap, patiently feeding it to him over the opening credits of _Emperor’s_.

Wally hummed a thank you as he let himself melt back against Dick; for all his protests, he really didn’t mind having a warm, grabby pillow after a day running them back and forth from their day by the water and at the observatory.

Belly full and wrapped in the actually really comfy picnic blanket (well, besides the stray blade of grass getting into “places”) and pressed against the soft heart beat of his best friend/boyfriend a wave of exhaustion dragged Wally under, and he felt his eyelids droop.

_What? Getting shoved into a lake was hard work!_

Twenty minutes of competitive swimming fully-clothed hadn’t helped.

So Kronk hadn’t even had a chance to finish his spinach puffs before Wally’s head lolled to the side and with a light snore passed out on his boyfriend’s plush couch.

Dick split up an Oreo and lightly licked at the cream, giving Wally a few minutes to settle into his sleep as he lowered the volume and kept watching, but eventually his boyfriend’s snores grew to the point where he might as well just mute the movie. He carefully maneuvered the lolling head to his shoulder, where Wally immediately burrowed his face into the crook of his neck, and Dick tried not to squirm because, _Seriously, KF, must you drool on me?_

Once he’d wrapped them both in the throw blanket pulled from the back of the couch and made sure Wally was comfortable, the redhead stopped snoring and Dick could return his attention to the screen, one hand cupping the side of Wally’s neck to stop him from sliding off, his own head leaning on top of his best friend’s.

Dick wasn’t fond of sleeping when he knew there would be nightmares, and he didn’t go to bed without saying goodnight to Elinore, at least, but today had been pretty emotionally exhausting for him. He turned up the volume again, covering Wally’s exposed ear when he shifted in discomfort, then muted it altogether and tried to force himself to eat a cream-filled strawberry, but his eyes grew heavier and heavier, and when he fell asleep the remote dropped silently from his hand onto the plush-carpeted floor.

At about 1:30 am Wally jolted awake; he hadn’t planned on staying this late, much less falling asleep. He carefully started extracting himself from Dick’s koala grip - _school wasn’t_ _ **pressing**_ _exactly, but he should get_ \- but Dick wasn’t having it, and once Wally managed to maneuver himself far enough away to turn and look at him, he stalled.

His stomach wrenched at the pained look on Dick’s face; _the distress of this day would never really go away, would it?_

Wally placed a warm palm over the cold sweat that coated Dick’s forehead, gently running his fingers into the dark, soft bangs. As carefully and gently as he could, he squeezed beside Dick to hold _him_ , and pressing a kiss to his temple, clucking a series of quiet _shhh, shhhs_ , ran his hands soothingly through his hair until the boy quieted beside him.

When Dick finally fell still, Wally wrapped both arms around him and pulled him as close as possible and buried his face in the crook of his neck, nose against the now even pulse that fluttered through his veins, and let himself drift back to sleep.

_School could wait._


End file.
